by William Avon
Melanie had at least cast a degree of suspicion back on them with her statement mentioning the box. It was possible its owners would have some awkward questions to answer now, though undoubtedly they had an alibi and would simply deny all knowledge of the incident. But she knew that she could never lead an ordinary life until this was resolved. She had to get away from home and she had to get in touch with Miss Newcombe again.
The next morning her Superintendent put her on a week’s leave and offered her trauma counselling. She said she just wanted some peace and quiet. She could not explain that her experiences as a pack girl had enabled her to put the experience into perspective. Yes it had been terrifying at the time but even in the middle of she’d managed to come and physically Arabella’s thistle ride had been far, far worse.
It was around lunchtime after the last of the forensic team had finally left and while she was clearing up the flat that Chief Constable Osborne arrived unannounced. She made him coffee and they sat in her lounge. After being assured she had not been physically harmed he came to the point.
‘PC Kingston, I know something’s wrong here and also that it concerns that damn missing box. I didn’t like the pressure I was put under to question you about it. Now in your statement you say these men were specifically searching for it. The obvious implication is that its owners hired them to get it back. What is there about it that’s so special?’
Melanie smiled grimly. ‘I’d like to explain about the box but you simply wouldn’t believe it unless I had proof, Sir, and I don’t have it to show you. I was going to write you a letter, but now I can tell you face to face. This whole thing is bigger than I first thought. I’m going to have to use my initiative again and unofficially go undercover, you might say. I know this is completely irregular but I’m requesting an indefinite leave of absence as from today. It’s that or I’ll have to resign from the force and I don’t want to do that but I’d have no choice. I promise I’ll explain some time, but I’ve no idea when.’
Osborne looked at her long and hard. At last he said: ‘I believe you mean it. This business really is that serious?’
‘More than you can imagine, Sir, but as I say, without proof I have nothing. If this sort of thing keeps happening then I’m a liability anyway. I can’t do my job looking over my shoulder all the time. There’s a chance I can sort it out, but I need to drop out of sight and do things my own way. I know it’s against all the rules, but I can only ask you to trust me.’
‘Very well. As from today you’re on leave. Should I let the media run with this break-in story or hold back on it?’
‘It would look odd if it wasn’t reported in the usual way. Maybe you can let it be known I’ve gone away for a few days to stay with relatives in London.’
‘But that’s not where you’re going?’
‘No, Sir. Where I’m going is much nearer and much further. Sorry, again, you’ll understand one day.’
‘I must have some means of contacting you.’
‘I’ll arrange for my post to be collected regularly, Sir. Use that. I won’t be taking a phone. Reception’s not good where I’m going.’
‘Will you be safe on your own?’
‘I hope I won’t be on my own, Sir.’
It was the next afternoon when Sue answered a knock at the door of the cottage. Melanie stepped inside quickly, pulling her hood back and unslinging her shoulder pack.
‘Oh, I’m so pleased you’re all right,’ Sue exclaimed, flinging her arms about her. ‘It was on the news about a local woman policeman. You’d been attacked or something.’
‘Well I’m okay but I’m dying for a cup of tea,’ Melanie said, allowing herself to be hugged. ‘I’ve spent the morning travelling on busses and trains going round in a circle so nobody can follow me back here. I’m pretty sure they don’t know anything about this place and I want to keep it that way.’
Over tea and crumpets, Melanie explained what had happened and her new assessment of the threat from the owners of the puzzle box.
‘So what are you going to do now?’ Sue asked when she had finished.
‘Stay here for a few days and hope Miss Newcombe turns up. I think I’ll be safer in the other world than here. If that’s all right with you.’
‘Of course!’ Sue said. ‘I’d love to look after you. It’s been so lonely since Amber left.’ She smiled shyly. ‘While we wait please, can I be your slave?’
Melanie grinned. ‘Only at night. I can’t show my face around here so you’ll have to be presentable to answer the door if anybody calls. So no bare arse and slave chains.’
‘Ohhh…’ Sue said unhappily.
They did not have to wait as long as Melanie feared, although perhaps sooner than Sue had hoped. That evening there came a knock at the door and Miss Newcombe stepped briskly inside.
‘I saw there had been trouble at your flat on the local news when I popped back to check on things on this side,’ she said to Melanie. ‘I thought you might have come here. I’m glad to see you’re not hurt. What happened?’
Melanie recounted the incident and her meetings with Osborne.
When she was done Miss Newcombe said: ‘I was afraid of this. You’ve come to the attention of some powerful people. I think it’s time you came back with me.’
‘That’s what I planned,’ said Mel.
Sue looked crestfallen. ‘When will it be my turn?’ she begged.
‘Soon, I promise,’ Miss Newcombe said. ‘Meanwhile you can make some preparations. You were never known to the authorities in Shaftwell while you were there and Jemima and the Cranborough boys will not give you away, but I know you met the Major briefly and the remnants of Arabella’s gang would certainly recognize you. It would be simpler and safer if you changed your appearance and we passed you off as somebody new.’ She considered her blonde locks and creamy complexion. ‘Have your hair restyled and tinted and use some fake tan to darken your skin.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Sue promised.
‘We’ll also need a new name to register you under officially. For obvious reasons we don’t want the name “Sue Drake” getting back to any of Arabella’s old gang. You need to think of a new one so you can get used to it.’
‘Well actually I have the middle names “Elizabeth Frances” but I just don’t use them much. They sound like they could be a complete name.’
‘They’ll do fine,’ said Miss Newcombe. She turned to Mel. ‘Then we’ll go when you’re ready, Melanie.’
‘No,’ Melanie said. ‘First you’re going to explain what’s behind all this and how you’re involved.’
‘I will when you, Sue and Amber are all safely together again,’ Miss Newcombe replied firmly. ‘I don’t want to have to tell my story twice. First you’ve got to return to Shaftwell with as little drama possible, which won’t be easy. The police are still looking for you and the Major has offered a generous reward for your recovery safe and well.’
Mel felt moved. ‘That’s good of him. I want to go back to the Hall and the pack, but I’ve also got to sort out this puzzle box business. And if I do go back how do I explain to the Major what happened?’
‘You tell him some of the truth but only as much as you need to,’ said Miss Newcombe. ‘He must not know I’ve helped you directly, but I would like to strengthen my connection with the Hall because the Major’s an influential man and that might come in useful someday. We’ll work the exact details later, but do remember you’re very valuable to him. This might be an opportunity to come to a new arrangement.’
Chapter Eleven
Preparations
Belinda’s next meeting with Arabella was not held at the Pump Maid Inn. As they had agreed she used the public call box next to the post office to send a message through the reception desk and then waited for Arabella to ring her back. Belinda would have preferred to call from h
er home phone (they had been one of the first in their road to have one installed) but there was too much chance of being overheard. She felt self-conscious waiting in the box for Arabella to ring her back from the telephone booth at the Inn but at least it was faster than exchanging letters.
Following Arabella’s directions Belinda found herself walking down a narrow twisting, rutted lane until she came to an old and decrepit barn, half overgrown with ivy, situated on the edge of Lower Boxley. Outside she saw a cart loaded with assorted timbers and workman’s tools. Inside the barn, which was empty except for a few old hay bales in one corner, she found Arabella giving instructions to a pair of hulking labourers. One had red hair and the other was dark. Soon they had unloaded their paraphernalia and were hard at work measuring and sawing timber struts and planks.
‘What are they making?’ Belinda asked curiously.
‘Prototypes of some devices I hope to use later,’ Arabella said casually. Leaving the men to their work, Arabella drew Belinda aside and received her report on her intimate encounter with Jemima.
‘It seems she’s been secretly meeting with these people for the last few weeks at every opportunity,’ Belinda concluded. ‘That’s when they play these slave games with her.’
‘But she hasn’t told you their names or where they’re from?’ Arabella asked.
‘No. I’m not sure she knows their real names. There are at least three of them, but she hasn’t mentioned anything more about them, apart from the fact that they wear masks. Not that she’s reticent about what they do to her. She’s told me that in every last detail. I think it gives her a thrill to talk about that. I had no idea she was such a depraved little slut. And I thought she was unhappy about the way we treated Sue because she was soft and felt it was too cruel. Actually I think she was envying her.’
‘Well done, Belinda,’ Arabella said. ‘That’s all most interesting. I think its obvious now who gave us away. And almost certainly these are the men responsible for everything else that’s happened. Now you must find out their true identities and where they’re based.’
‘But how? I can’t exactly torture it out of Jemima, even if she knows. The little trollop enjoys pain. And it seems she’s very loyal to these people. She loves the way they treat her.’
‘But you told her you also like playing slave games, correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well then the next step is obvious. You ask to join her in one of her slave game sessions with these friends of hers and win their confidence by submitting to them. Once you become intimate you should be able to find some means of identifying who they are, masks or not.’
Belinda was aghast. ‘What! I can’t do that?’
‘Do you want things back the way they were with all of us in my uncle’s favour or not?’
‘Yes, of course, but I’m not going to play the victim in some perverted slave game! That was just a lie to win Jem’s confidence. Those are things you do to slaves, not let people do to you. I’m no masochist!’
Arabella looked at her curiously, her cool blue eyes seeming to bore into Belinda. ‘You’ve never wondered what it would be like to be a slave and to suffer like a slave?’
Belinda felt a frisson of embarrassment. ‘Well, yes, I suppose I have. Like anybody, I’ve imagined what it would be like, but that’s not the same as wanting to do it for real. It’s a disgusting idea! Sorry, Arabella, but that’s too much to ask. There must be another way.’
Arabella was looking at her now with naked contempt. ‘I thought you were stronger than this, but it seems I was wrong. Apparently even meek and mild Jemima has more adventure in her soul. At least she has the courage to admit to her darker desires and even revel in them.’
‘Well I know what my desires are and they’re not about submitting to the will of some strange masked men. How do I know they wouldn’t treat me like the Jones girl? Apparently she was black and blue when they found her.’
‘But they only kidnap bondslaves,’ Arabella pointed out. ‘They’re quite happy to use Jemima on an occasional basis. She didn’t appear outwardly damaged, did she?’
‘Well, no, she looked perfectly healthy.’
‘There you are. These men clearly have the sense not to handle free women too roughly. That way Jemima keeps coming back for more. They have every reason to treat you the same way. You’ll be perfectly safe.’
Belinda realised that Arabella had not grasped the fact that she was not going to agree to this insane scheme. Perhaps she had been so used to having her way for so long that it did not occur to her that Belinda would not comply. Well this time she was wrong.
‘Yes, I will be perfectly safe,’ Belinda said, ‘because I won’t do it! And I’m pretty sure you won’t get Ernestine or Penny to have anything to do with such a mad idea either. Why can’t I just secretly follow Jem around until she meets these men again?’
‘Because it’s easier, quicker and more direct if you submit to them and win their confidence, that’s why. They’re bound to give something away eventually.’
‘And I told you that’s not going to happen.’
Arabella shook her head almost regretfully. ‘In which case I shall have to write my uncle an anonymous letter. In it I’ll say that you’ve been seen in dubious company about the village recently, and that you were once overheard saying what fun it would be to steal a girl from the police yard. He can ask Tom Soams if you didn’t once privately visit Jones in the pillory. Perhaps you were really checking where best to break in.’
‘But you took me there!’
‘Actually you talked me into going,’ Arabella insisted sincerely. ‘And I was later the victim of a serious assault, whereas you haven’t suffered at all. In fact, as I will point out, with me disgraced you are in position to take my place socially amongst the younger girls. Sadly you can secretly be very manipulative. Oh, and you’ve also been heard extolling the virtues of beating misbehaving bondslaves with thistles. And you have to do it harder to dark skinned girls because the marks won’t show otherwise. That might arouse his suspicions.’
‘You wouldn’t! Anyway he’d never believe it!’
‘But can you take the chance on that? Gossip can be cruel, you know.’
Belinda paused. An association with Markham Hall and the Major were the sign of approval around Shaftwell. She had got on the wrong side of the Major for merely helping Arabella give Melanie her Thistle Ride. If he believed she had a greater hand in it, let alone the other incidents, that would be the end for her.
She had no choice.
Through gritted teeth she said: ‘All right, I’ll do it. But I hate you, Arabella, you know that!’
Arabella smiled back, as if Belinda had just bestowed a compliment. ‘That’s fine, as long as you find out what I want to know. Go back to Shaftwell and Jemima and tell her how much you want to play slave games with her mysterious friends.’
‘But… I can’t pretend I want to be a servile slave just like that,’ she groaned. ‘They’ll see I’m faking.’
Arabella smiled again, but this time there was a hungry edge to the curve of her lips that made Belinda shiver. ‘In that case you need a little preparation. You know the sort of things you like to do to a slave girl. All you have to do is learn to appreciate them from the other side. Come over here…’
She led Belinda back to the labourers. It was warm and close in the barn and they had taken off their shirts and were working bare-chested. Arabella said: ‘Styles, Burdock, shut the doors right now, please…’
They put down their tools and obeyed without demur. It was only as the big wooden latch bar dropped across the doors that Belinda had the first inkling of what was going to happen. ‘Oh… no, not like this, Arabella,’ she said, backing away.
‘But how else are you going to learn to play your part convincingly?’ Arabella asked. ‘You need
a rehearsal. Breaking in. Maybe you’ll even learn to enjoy it. Styles and Burdock are good at this. They’ve done work for me in the past and have plenty of practice.’ She looked at the men. ‘My friend needs to know what it feels like to be treated as a bondslave.’
The men looked at Belinda’s terrified expression and expensive clothes. ‘But she’s a lady, Miss Arabella,’ Burdock said awkwardly.
‘Yes, but she still needs to know what it’s like to be a slut. Tell them that’s what you want, Belinda. Or else I’ll go back to the Inn and write that letter.’
Belinda gulped. ‘I… want to know what it feels like to be a slut,’ she choked.
‘You must sound more convincing,’ Arabella said. ‘Beg them to treat you like a slutty little slave!’
‘I b… beg you to treat me like a slutty little slave,’ Belinda sobbed.
‘And ask them to give you a proper beating and a good hard fuck,’ Arabella added.
‘And… please give me a p... proper beating and a good hard f…fuck,’ Belinda said wretchedly.
‘There, you see she wants this,’ Arabella said to the men.
Consciences assuaged they grinned. ‘Right you are, Miss Arabella, no problem.’ ‘We’ll give her a good seeing to, Ma’am, don’t you worry.’
‘Strip off, Belinda,’ Arabella commanded. ‘Everything but your stockings and shoes. You don’t want to get that dress dirty, do you? Hang it up on that nail in the post over there…’
Sick with fear and loathing, Belinda slowly raised the hem of her dress and peeled it off over her head. She was acutely aware of the eyes of the two men taking in every detail with evident delight as she hung it up. She began to shiver, but not from cold. Her bodice joined her dress. Then there were only her panties. She turned her back as she slipped them off. Clutching her hands across her breasts and pubes she turned back to face them, clad now only in her white stockings, which reached halfway up her thighs and were held in place by pink garters, and her matching sandals.
